Time Unwasted
by NightingaleLost
Summary: He never once thought of it as time wasted. Song fic.


I was listening to 'One Headlight' by the Wallflowers, and just got smacked across the face with inspiration. Sorry for being so depressing, but hey, it's a depressing song. I didn't put the chorus on here, because i couldn't think of anything to write on it, so yeah, whatever.

Read, enjoy, fave, flame, review, do all of them if you want.

* * *

_So long ago, I don't remember when,_

_that's when they say I lost my only friend._

_Well they say she died easy of a broken heart disease_

_As I listened to the cemetery trees._

____

Damien stood in front of the grave, a single black rose in his hand. He laid it down at the angel's feet, reading the name again.

'_Phillip Pirrup_'

His friend's body lay here.

It wasn't that it was surprising; both of them had known Pip was going to die. His heart couldn't keep up with his body, and many doctors had already told him his fate before he was ready. But Pip had been okay with it.

__

_I see the sun coming up at the funeral at dawn,_

_the long, broken arm of human law_

_now it always seemed such a waste_

_she always had a pretty face_

_I wondered why she hung around this place_

__

Pip always thought it was strange that Damien hung around him. But when Damien had come back to South Park in middle school, the raven-haired boy had sought him out purposely. A couple of years of thinking in Hell alone had let him see that he had really only had one real friend. And that one friend would be better for his mental and emotional health than any other fake ones.

In retrospect, it hadn't really mattered by that point; by some unknown, stupid mortal reason, people had actually thought he was cool. He didn't really care. Hanging out with the forgiving Pip was all that he had really needed or wanted.

But as time passed, Pip spent more and more time in the hospital. Damien visited him a lot. Pip had asked him once why he hung around. Damien had told him it was because he wanted to.

And they had left it at that.

__

_She said it's cold,_

_it feels like Independence Day_

_and I can't break away from this parade._

_But there's gotta be an opening_

_somewhere here in front of me_

_through this maze of ugliness and greed._

____

Pip had always dreamed of leaving South Park. He always talked of going someplace else, of traveling to far-flung corners and hidden places. His body was trapped in a white room, but his mind wandered the world.

Sometimes, when the claustrophobia of the hospital got to be too much for the blonde, Damien would sneak him out at night, and they would take a tour around the empty town.

Pip never seemed sick then.

He always smiled so brightly when Damien took him away for a little while; sitting in the park, hitting fast food joints, just staring up at the stars. He couldn't run or do anything strenuous, but it was the thought of freedom that made him happy.

He loved those nighttime trips.

____

_And I see the sun up ahead_

_at the county line bridge_

_sayin' all there's good and nothingness is dead._

_We'll run until she's out of breath_

_she ran until there's nothing left_

_she hit the end-it's just her window ledge._

____

Damien always wondered why Pip never left. He had lost count of how many times he had offered to take him away from South Park. To just hop in his car and leave. Pip alwas just shook his head. For all their nighttime escapades, he never asked to leave forever.

Damien had asked him once why he never took him up on his offer. Pip had told him it was because he never actually wanted to.

And they had left it at that.

__

_Well, this place is old,_

_it feels just like a beat-up truck._

_I turn the engine, but the engine doesn't turn._

_Well, it smells of cheap wine and cigarettes_

_this place was always such a mess_

_sometimes I think I'd like to watch it burn._

___

Then Pip couldn't leave the hospital anymore. Damien took him outside one night, and Pip's heart had stopped. The doctors had barely brought him back. So they stopped the nighttime freedoms. Pip laughed about it. He just said it gave him more time to relax and sleep.

He got worse. His skin paled, he lost weight, he got a bad cough. Pip never stopped smiling. He said it was fine as long as he had a friend by his side.

One day, twilight dusky outside the window, Pip asked Damien for a favor. He asked if he could hold his hand. Damien never thought once of denying him. Pip's hand had been so cold.

At true nightfall, stars shining so bright, Pip apologized. He said he was sorry for making Damien waste so much time on him. Damien told him that he had never thought it time wasted. Pip's smile had been so achingly sweet. Damien never let go of Pip's hand.

That night, Pip never woke up. His heart wouldn't beat anymore.

__

_I'm so alone and I feel just like somebody else_

_Man, I ain't changed, but I know I ain't the same_

_But somewhere here in between the city walls of dyin' dreams,_

_I think her death, it must be killing me._

___

A stone angel guarded Pip's grave. Damien had paid for it himself. He thought it appropriate.

He wondered what he would do now. Pip had been such a big part in his life; he didn't think he could go back anymore. Damien felt a large hole in a heart he didn't think he had, and it hurt. The world suddenly seemed so strange. He himself felt different.

Damien wondered if Pip was looking down at him from Heaven. At least there he wouldn't be tied down to a malfunctioning heart and a frail body. He could go anywhere he liked. He was free.

Damien bent down, brushing his fingers over the name. He couldn't stay here any longer. This was too cold, too many memories buried with the body beneath. Besides, Pip wasn't here anymore. Not in the cold body underneath.

He stood up, walking to where a black car waited, silent and dark.

For Pip, he would live out his dream. He would travel until there was nothing left to see, nothing left to know, nothing left to discover.

Then maybe, just maybe, his heart would stop hurting so much.


End file.
